


The Moment I Knew

by ForForever19



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:28:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25453141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForForever19/pseuds/ForForever19
Summary: 'Rachel Berry falls in love on a Saturday.'
Relationships: Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray
Comments: 13
Kudos: 294





	The Moment I Knew

**Disclaimer** : I, by no means, claim to own anything remotely related to the Glee Universe. No copyright infringement intended.

* * *

**The Moment I Knew**

* * *

Rachel Berry falls in love on a Saturday.

It's not as if she doesn't actually believe in 'love at first sight,' it's just that she thinks she's _already_ in love when she falls, and that catches her completely off guard. It's unsettling in all the worst ways, and she's left standing in the doorway with wide eyes and an open mouth.

The door's already open, at least, and the bustling activity going on in the apartment gives her the moment she needs to compose herself before she makes a complete fool of herself.

Still, she suddenly feels so out of place; out of her element, and she has the sudden urge to turn around and pretend she never showed up.

But, alas, the very person who's made her question everything about her lowly existence notices her in that moment, stops handing out orders, and moves towards her with the kind of smile on her face that makes Rachel want to take a snapshot of this moment.

The woman is slightly flushed, dressed in leggings, an oversized Yale sweatshirt and rimmed glasses. Her blonde hair is in a messy bun atop her head and her eyes are shining with unconcealed excitement.

Rachel is definitely in love.

_God_.

"Hey," the woman says. "You must be Rachel."

Rachel finds it in herself to nod.

"Cool," the woman says, holding out her hand. "I'm Quinn. Thank you so much for coming. We really need all the help we can get." She smiles a little lopsidedly. "Well, really, we needed Finn's heavy-lifting capabilities, but I suppose you'll do."

Rachel flushes at the obvious teasing - possibly flirting - and stands a little taller. "I'm stronger than I look."

Quinn - the love of her life's name is Quinn, apparently - is in the middle of giving her a once-over when they hear a crash come from another room, followed by a string of colourful curse words in both English and Spanish.

Quinn winces as she glances over her shoulder. "I should probably go and check she hasn't broken anything," she says. "I have precious things in there." She grins a little. "Come inside, will you? There's coffee in the kitchen if you need a boost, and then come find me when you're ready to get to work."

She disappears before Rachel can ask any more questions, and the brunette is just left standing in a packed-up living room. There are boxes piled everywhere, and furniture pushed against the wall closest to the door, all ready to be taken out.

Rachel isn't even the one moving today, but she can already feel the stress of it.

Following Quinn's suggestion, she moves towards the kitchen, finding two men packing several boxes. She pauses momentarily, but manages to smile when they notice her.

"Hey, there," one of them says. "I'm Kurt."

"Blaine," the other one says.

"I'm Rachel," she says, waving a little awkwardly.

Kurt smiles. "Oh, right, Quinn said you were coming," he says. "It's been a bit of a whirlwind since she got the job offer."

Rachel doesn't really understand what's happening or why she's even here. All

Finn asked her was if she was busy this Saturday morning, and she stupidly said no. Now, she's helping an essential stranger... move. Where, she doesn't know, and she's definitely unsure as to why.

Maybe Kurt can sense her confusion, because he just waves a hand, as if the information isn't important. "Are you having coffee?"

"Please."

Blaine starts moving. "Let me get you a clean cup," he says. "Quinn packed all the good ones already, and the lot of us have been recycling all the old, chipped ones."

Rachel just nods, watching as he rinses a cup and then pours in a generous amount of the already-brewed coffee.

It's only once she's had her first sip that Kurt speaks again, abandoning his packing. "So, Quinn says you know Finn," he says. "His girlfriend, right?"

Rachel winces internally, because she's about to open an entire can of uncomfortable. "His wife, actually."

Kurt's eyes widen. "Oh."

She shrugs. "We were young and stupid and in love," she explains. "Somehow, we've been making it work."

It's a bit of a lie, because, God, it's been a struggle from day one, but these strangers don't need to know that. It's taken them far too long to get to New York, and she can't help wondering how different her life would be if she managed to get here sooner; possibly without a husband.

"Blaine and I are high school sweethearts, as well," Kurt says. "Though, I came to New York first. This one is a baby."

Blaine rolls his eyes. "I'm one year younger than you."

Rachel smiles. "How do you know Finn, then?"

"He works at my father's garage," Kurt says. "With Noah, which is how Quinn also met him, I guess. We both know Brittany from Tisch, which is how we met Santana, and then Quinn."

Rachel knows only Noah on that list, and now Quinn. But. "You go to Tisch?"

"Did," Kurt says. "I just graduated, but this baby has one year left."

Rachel perks up, even if she feels a flash of longing. She wishes she were finished as well, or at least further than she is now. "I'm starting there in the Fall."

Kurt smiles, nodding his head. "Oh, yes, Finn mentioned you were a performer. He said you were in show choir together?"

Rachel sips at her coffee. "He normally doesn't tell people about that," she says with a smile. "But, yes, we were," she says. "We weren't very successful, unfortunately."

Kurt hums in sympathy. "Well, he said you're very good," he says. "I suspect we'll be seeing you around more now that you're in New York, which means we're going to Callbacks soon."

"Callbacks?"

"Karaoke bar," Blaine says. "It's probably Kurt's favourite place in the city."

Kurt looks affronted, but his complaint is cut off by another voice, owned by a Latina woman.

"Hey, lazy boys, why are we doing all the work while you two are chatting in here?" She pauses when she sees Rachel. "Who're you?"

Kurt shakes his head. "Rachel, meet Santana. Santana, this is Rachel, Finn's, uh, wife."

Santana's eyebrows rise, but she makes no comment. "Extra help, what's up?" She moves towards Blaine and takes his cup of coffee from him. "Why am I doing all the work when there's the lot of you here?"

"You're the one who got here like half an hour ago," Kurt says. "We've been here since seven."

"Why?"

"Because that's the time Quinn asked us to arrive," Kurt deadpans. "We're punctual."

Santana downs the rest of Blaine's coffee. "Well, Blondie's probably going to burst an aneurysm if we're not ready to go by the time Puck gets here with the U-Haul." She laughs. "There's a total lesbian joke just buried in there."

"Santana!" a voice shouts. "Please tell me you didn't pack my towels with the cleaning supplies."

Santana winces, and then shouts back, "Of course not."

"Fuck you, Lopez."

Santana snickers. "Don't tell her this, but I'm really going to miss her."

Blaine just nods, and Kurt hums in agreement.

Rachel waits a beat, and then asks, "Where is she going?" because the idea of the 'love of her life' suddenly disappearing after she's just met her makes her a little anxious.

"London," Kurt answers, and Rachel can't decide if she feels disappointed or relieved by that. "Hotshot just scored herself some fancy job, and now she's leaving us." He looks genuinely sad about it, and Blaine rubs his back soothingly.

"Wow," Rachel murmurs.

Kurt nods, shrugging. "It's a once in a lifetime opportunity," he says, and the words sound as if they're not his own. "She's single and unattached. This is the time to do it."

Rachel wants to know more, sure, but that's the moment Quinn enters the kitchen with another blonde woman in tow.

"Oh, is this where you're all hiding?" she says, looking amused. "We haven't even done the hard work yet." She looks at Rachel then, and Rachel tells herself to breathe. "Have you met everyone?"

Rachel nods. "Just..."

The blonde woman beside Quinn steps forward and holds out her hand, beaming all the while. "I'm Brittany," she says. "You're short."

Rachel blinks, but shakes her hand. "I'm aware, yes," she says. "I'm Rachel, by the way."

"She's Finn's girlfriend," Quinn says.

"Wife, actually," Kurt clarifies.

Quinn looks at her, a little stunned and a little... disappointed. Rachel's convinced she's seeing things. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't know."

"That's okay," she says, waving it off. "I know it's difficult to imagine when we're so young."

Santana leans against the counter. "This is a story I want to hear."

Rachel flushes. "Oh, it's nothing special."

"Aren't you twenty or something?"

Rachel hums, carefully sipping her coffee. "We got married in high school," she explains, wondering if they're going to judge her for it. "It's been a little over two years now."

"Wow," Brittany says, and then looks at Santana. "Why didn't we get married in high school?"

Santana's eyebrows shoot up. "We didn't even know each other in high school, babe."

Brittany furrows her brow. "Oh. Right. But, would we have?"

Santana nods. "Of course," she says, and she sounds as if she genuinely means it.

Quinn makes a whipping sound accompanied with a hand gesture, and Santana punches her arm. The laugh she releases melts at Rachel's insides, and she reasons there must be something wrong with her right now. Quinn has barely said three sentences to her, and Rachel thinks she's already starting to imagine their futures together.

Wow.

Okay.

She's married, and she doesn't even know if Quinn could like another girl. It shouldn't even matter, but Rachel finds herself looking at Quinn, a small smile on her face. She's really stunning, her manner relaxed.

Well.

"Okay, can we please get to work?" Quinn says, and then directs them to various rooms in the apartment.

Rachel gets sent to Quinn's office alone. At first, at least. There are open boxes on the desk, some of them already filled with books and trinkets. The shelves are still rather full of books, and Rachel takes a moment to study the titles, wanting to find out all she can about this blonde woman who has made her question everything about her life as it is.

She's unsure where to begin, so she rather busies herself with shifting boxes onto the large desk, so she won't have to bend when she's packing. Whatever she's going to be packing.

Quinn joins her a minute later, her sleeves rolled up to reveal some glorious forearms. "So, obviously, I can't take everything," she says. "I'm planning on starting another collection when I get there, anyway. So, we have a Go box, a Stay box, and a Donate box. I want to make snap decisions, so hopefully this'll go quickly."

It sort of does, but also not at all. Apparently, Quinn is more sentimental than either of them thought, and they end up spending long minutes discussing various book titles, little trinkets and artworks.

"What about this?" Rachel asks, holding up a picture frame of Quinn and a brunette woman.

Quinn looks over at her and winces. "Well, that's definitely not going," she says.

Rachel blinks. "Oh?"

Quinn takes the frame from her and opens the back. "My ex," she explains, entirely too casually. "I forgot she put that there." She takes out the picture and immediately tears it up.

Rachel stares at her, a little dumbfounded. Quinn had a girlfriend. Quinn dated a woman. "Bad breakup?" she finds herself asking.

Quinn shrugs. "Something like that," she says. "She wasn't too on board with the whole possibility of London."

"Oh."

"We broke up before I even got the offer," she elaborates. "I'm guessing long-distance wouldn't have worked for us anyway, and I wouldn't have stayed for her. We weren't together long enough for me to make that kind of life decision with her in mind. It's not like we were married or anything."

Rachel drops her gaze. "Right."

Quinn glances at her. "Sorry," she says, wincing slightly. "I don't know if I just offended you."

"You didn't," Rachel says. "I get it. You're under no obligation to stay together when this huge opportunity comes along."

Quinn turns her body to face her properly. "Is that you and Finn?"

Rachel stiffens at the mention of his name, and she wonders how she's supposed to feel talking about him with this woman who has just violently and unceremoniously taken his place on her list of love. "Sort of," she admits. "We - we got married at a time when I wasn't very sure of my future. I wanted to come to New York straight after graduation, but..." she trails off. "My College position wasn't secure, but he was, and I said yes when he asked, and we spent two years back home working and saving to come out here. I reapplied, got in, and now we're here. He moved first, when Noah said there was a spot open at the garage, and I arrived later.

"It's been difficult. My dreams of New York were different to what I'm getting, and it's taking me a while to accept it for what it is. Our apartment is tiny and the neighbourhood is terrifying and noisy and Finn works all the time and I work as a waitress now, and it's all just so different."

Quinn steps closer to her, and Rachel can smell her shampoo. "New York is never what you think it's going to be," she says. "Nobody gets what they expect."

Rachel meets her gaze. "Quinn," she breathes. "We just met, but you and I both know that my life would be very different if I wasn't married."

Quinn hums. "Different, sure," she says; "but you sound as if you're saying it would be better."

Rachel says nothing.

Quinn steps closer, her right hand touching Rachel's back. There are a lot of things she can say, but she remains silent, and Rachel appreciates her for it. She appreciates so much about this unsuspecting woman, and it's terrifying.

Rachel risks a look at her face, unsurprised to find Quinn looking at her. The moment is charged, but she doesn't have the chance to unpack it before they hear footsteps heading their way, and Quinn drops her hand, moving away with a slight crease in her brow.

Well. Okay.

It's Brittany, informing them that Noah has just arrived with the truck.

Quinn leaves Rachel, then, telling her she trusts her to make all the right decisions, which feels heavier than it should. Rachel busies herself with her task, just able to hear Quinn instructing everyone else in the other rooms.

She tells herself she's not going to leave the room until absolutely necessary. Also, the less time she spends with Quinn; the safer it'll be. It's really just not every day that one meets the potential love of one's life... while they're married.

Rachel is many things, but she's not a cheater.

Is she?

When Quinn does eventually come to find her again, looking slightly dishevelled with flushed cheeks and a happy little smile, Rachel considers that she might actually be.

Quinn steps into the room to inspect her progress, and then grins, impressed. "We're about ready to get out of here," she says. "Puck's all loaded up for the storage container, the donation pile is just waiting for this box, and the rest is coming with me to the hotel."

Rachel just stares at her.

Quinn steps closer. "Is everything okay?"

Rachel blinks. "You're really leaving," she says, and she tries and fails not to sound too heartbroken about it.

"I - uh, yeah," Quinn says, frowning. "I kind of wanted to be out of here before it got dark," she says, misunderstanding Rachel's meaning. Thankfully. "I promised pizza and booze, so we're going to meet up at the hotel for that."

Rachel listens, though she's not sure she really registers what Quinn is saying. She does snap to attention when Quinn mentions Finn, though, and something very telling happens to her own whirling thoughts.

"Excuse me?"

Quinn eyes her curiously. "You can invite him to join us, if you want," she says slowly. "That's if you're joining us. I'd really want to thank you for all your help today."

"I've barely done anything," Rachel says, because she really hasn't done much more than this small room.

"You've done more than you know," Quinn says, ever cryptic, and Rachel wants to step into her space and learn all her secrets.

"What does that mean?" Rachel finds herself asking.

Quinn doesn't respond, but her eyes are trained on Rachel's face, not willing to look away. It's really the first time Rachel entertains the idea she's not entirely alone in this sudden and dangerous attraction.

If anyone is going to act on it, it's going to have to be her. Quinn is leaving for London the next day, and, God, Rachel is married. She's _married_.

And yet, the person she's suddenly sure she actually loves is the woman standing right in front of her, brows knit together in obvious confusion. Rachel is acting weird, she knows, but she can't help it.

There's a part of her that just _wants_. It's dangerous, and she really needs to get it together before she does something disastrous and actually acts on her desire to kiss Quinn.

Thankfully, Quinn doesn't dwell on her strangeness for too long, and claps her hands together, rather adorably. "Let's get this room finished up, and then we can indulge."

Quinn speaks it into existence, and it takes the remaining helpers just another hour to get everything completed, Quinn sparing one last look to what has been her home for some years now before closing and locking the door.

Rachel watches her the entire time, wondering how it's affecting her. She hasn't really shown much emotion beyond just getting everything done with time to spare, and Rachel wonders if the fact she's leaving her entire world behind will hit her.

* * *

When everything is said and done, they reconvene at Quinn's hotel room, the lot of them piling in with several six packs and too much pizza. Rachel gets to talk to Noah after all the excitement of the day, and he asks her why Finn couldn't make it.

"He said he was working," she answers, brow creased in confusion, because shouldn't Noah know that?

"No, he wasn't," Noah says, a frown on his own face.

Before the conversation can continue, they're interrupted by Brittany, who's just draped her body over Quinn and says, "What are you going to miss most about New York?"

Rachel is pretty sure she doesn't imagine the fact Quinn looks her way before responding to Brittany's question.

"You," Quinn says, which gets a squeal out of Brittany, and a soft laugh out of everyone else. It's an expected answer, so nobody asks her to elaborate, but Rachel gets the feeling there's more to it.

There's always more to it, she comes to learn, as the evening unfolds. She doesn't interact directly with Quinn, given she's decided that would be a bad idea, but she exists around the blonde is somehow worse.

Rachel's body burns with the desire to get closer to her, eyes constantly drifting Quinn's way, regardless of whoever either of them is talking to in the moment.

What's worse is, whenever Rachel looks, Quinn's eyes are already on her.

It feels charged and heavy and, if they're not careful, something is going to ignite, and someone is going to end up hurt because of it. Possibly Quinn, probably them both.

All of them.

Santana and Brittany end up leaving first, closely followed by Noah. Rachel excuses herself to the bathroom when Kurt and Blaine start making noise about leaving as well, and she knows she's going to have to make a decision of her own. Does she stay, or does she go?

Why would she be staying, anyway? What reason could she possibly have, who do wanting to spend more time with a woman she's probably never going to see again? A woman who's claimed her heart merely by existing.

It's crazy.

Everything is just crazy. And, Rachel has never been more sure of it than when she walks out of the room to find Quinn sitting on the couch, alone.

They're alone.

Quinn says, "Kurt and Blaine said goodnight," when Rachel just stand frozen on the carpet. "They were going to wait, but - " she stops, doesn't bother to complete the sentence.

Rachel needs to leave. She knows she has to get out of here. Her brain is screaming at her to gather her things and walk out the door right this instance.

She sits on the couch beside Quinn.

Quinn doesn't say anything, and Rachel can't think of the right words, either. The air is warm around them, thick with an unspoken tension that's been building since the moment Rachel appeared in Quinn's apartment doorway.

"Something is happening here," Quinn finally says, voice little more than a whisper. "Tell me I'm not the only one feeling it."

"You're not."

There's another chunk of silence, and Rachel is convinced Quinn will never speak again.

She's wrong.

Very, very wrong.

Quinn glances at her, her facial expression unreadable. "I'm leaving tomorrow," she says, her tone equally questionable.

Rachel blinks. She already knows that.

Quinn shifts in her seat, turning her body to face Rachel. "I'm leaving tomorrow," she repeats, and, this time, there's a hint of suggestion in her voice.

Oh.

Rachel's eyes widen as realisation and understanding settle over her, rendering her stupidly speechless.

Quinn studies her face for a moment, seemingly finds something in her features, and then sighs, leaning back. "Sorry," she says. "Forget I said anything."

Rachel won't be able to explain what happens next. Never ever. All she sees is Quinn's creased brow and adorable disappointment that she tries so hard to hide, but it's the soft sigh she releases that hits Rachel square in the chest.

She's moving before she can stop herself, launching herself across the couch and kissing Quinn with all the ferocity she can manage, all her pent-up tension she's harboured all day bleeding out of her. She crawls right into the blonde's lap when Quinn kisses her back immediately, hands automatically exploring.

Rachel tries not to think too hard about they're doing. What they're about to do.

Quinn, unfortunately, does, and she pulls away, panting. "Are you sure?" she asks.

_No_ , Rachel wants to say, but she keeps her mouth shut, and rather just kisses her again, her actions answer enough.

Quinn doesn't bother to ask any more questions.

* * *

In the morning, there's no immediate guilt.

Rachel wakes first, Quinn's body wrapped lightly around her. She allows herself a few minutes to enjoy it. Quinn is leaving, and Rachel knows they can never do this again. That's really the only reason any of this happened, at all.

Rachel very carefully turns over to look at Quinn, just wanting to look at her. She really does expect to feel guilt, but all she feels is nostalgic for what could be. Sad that they'll never get more than this. Irritated that the Universe has made them meet under these impossible circumstances.

Quinn is beautiful like this.

Well, she's beautiful all the time, but especially like this. Rachel wants to take a snapshot of the ease of her features, and she debates with herself until she decides to snap a picture with her phone.

Then she makes the mistake of checking the time.

She has to go. She still doesn't know how she's going to explain her night out to Finn, but she isn't a little bit worried about that. That's all overwhelmed by her desire to stay and determination to go.

It takes another few minutes, but she just about manages to force herself up and out of bed. Her clothes are littered across the floor, and she gets dressed as quietly as possible, even visiting the bathroom and praying her movements don't wake Quinn.

Rachel knows she won't be able to say goodbye to hazel eyes.

When she's ready, she sits on the edge of the bed near Quinn's prone form and takes a moment to acknowledge this moment.

"I'm sorry," Rachel whispers, still unsure for what she's apologising. Just that she needs to. "I'm so sorry." She bends forward and presses lips to Quinn's hair, inhaling deeply. "I love you," she says next, surprised and also not that she can say the words and actually mean them. "I know it sounds crazy, but I do, which is why this can't ever go past this moment." She closes her eyes. "You're going to London, and you're going to take the world by storm. I'm going to stay here and try to do the same. This is all we get, and I'm sorry."

This is it, Rachel thinks, and she starts to get to her feet. Only to be stopped by Quinn's fingers wrapping around her wrist and holding her in place.

"Don't be sorry," Quinn murmurs, her eyes blinking open.

Rachel can't even look at her, keeping her head turned away.

Quinn shifts behind her, sitting up and getting close enough for Rachel to feel the heat of her body. "Please don't be sorry. Please don't tell me you regret it."

"I don't," Rachel quickly assures her, still keeping her gaze away from Quinn. She can't bear to see those eyes. Not when she'd been staring into them and begging for _faster, harder, more, more, please_ , just hours earlier. "I don't regret anything."

Quinn moves closer, and Rachel feels soft lips against her neck. "I know you didn't intend for me to hear, but you need to know that I love you, too."

Rachel closes her eyes tightly, knowing those words are going to make what has to happen next infinitely worse. "Quinn, please," she breathes.

Quinn's lips shift to her pulse point, sucking softly. "My flight isn't for another few hours," she points out. "We can order breakfast. We can... talk. We can watch some TV. We can - "

Rachel cuts her off when she turns quickly, eyes closed, and kisses her hard and desperate, just needing her to stop talking.

Everything about the next hour is exactly that: hard and desperate. Rachel practically claws at Quinn, biting and scratching, as if she can somehow leave a permanent mark on her skin, never to be forgotten.

The rest of their lives is a long time and, when Quinn comes apart, Rachel knows every second of that 'rest of her life' is going to pale in comparison to this moment right here.

Which is why she starts crying. She doesn't mean to, but there's nothing she can do to stop her tears once they get going. So, she cries, and Quinn holds her so, so gently. Which just makes her cry that much harder.

Quinn kisses her hair and every inch of her face, lips gentle and purposeful. She whispers sweet, honest words against her, and Rachel falls asleep to the feel of Quinn's beating heart beneath her ear.

The next thing she knows, her eyes are opening to Quinn standing at the foot of the bed, carefully buttoning up her shirt and tucking it into the waistband of her jeans. The first thought Rachel has is that she wonders how Quinn is going to be comfortable flying for something like ten hours in jeans. The second thought forces a slight whimper to escape, and Quinn immediately turns to look at her, facial expression surely matching Rachel's.

"Hey," Quinn murmurs, and she sounds so tired and a little lost. "I have - I have to get going."

Rachel doesn't move.

Quinn finishes dressing, her hair a little damp from the shower she must have had while Rachel was still asleep. She moves slowly as she checks her suitcase and carryon, making sure she has everything she needs for the long journey ahead. When she's done, she stands perfectly still, back facing Rachel, and just breathes.

Rachel doesn't think she can be the one to walk out first, but she also doesn't think she can handle watching Quinn leave.

Quinn sighs heavily, and then moves to sit on the edge of the bed, basically mirroring their earlier positions. "I thought I might leave while you were still sleeping," she admits; "but I couldn't bear the thought."

"I would hate you."

"Perhaps that would be better."

Rachel sighs, looking away.

"I want to give you something," Quinn says, revealing a necklace in the palm of her left hand. It has a pendant of a white flower Rachel doesn't recognise, but she already knows how important it is that Quinn is doing this.

"Quinn," she breathes.

"It's a gardenia," Quinn explains. "I want you to have it."

"Quinn," she says again.

Quinn just smiles, a little lopsidedly. She's unassuming like this, cheeks a little flushed and neck marked quite severely. "Just so you don't forget me."

"Like I would," Rachel scoffs.

Quinn kisses her, quick and sweet, as she places the necklace in Rachel's hand and closes her fingers around it. When their lips part, she doesn't completely pull away, rather resting their foreheads together. "I don't know what's going to happen," she whispers. "I don't really care, to be honest, because I've met you, and that - it's - "

Rachel is the one to kiss her this time, and it's the last one they share before Quinn boards that plane to take her across the Atlantic.

Rachel doesn't bother to get dressed when she walks Quinn to the door, wrapped in a sheet. Quinn gives her an amused look before she draws her into a hug that lasts almost five full minutes.

Quinn says, "I have to go," and then she does.

There are no numbers exchanged. No email addresses, and no promises of some possible future. How can there be, when everything is already so impossible?

Rachel doesn't cry about it. Not even when she manages to leave and head home. Not when Finn asks her where she's been, and she manages to lie without completely losing it. She doesn't even cry when she's certain Quinn is in the air, on her way to her new life, or when she finds a shade of lipstick on Finn's shirt that definitely isn't hers.

Rachel just doesn't cry about it.

* * *

.

* * *

Rachel hears things, sometimes.

Mainly from Blaine, who is her main source of information on Quinn. It's tiny, big things, about the fact she gets a cat, and then a girlfriend, and then dumped, and then promoted.

So, when Blaine says, "She's coming home," four years, three months and fifteen days since Rachel met and fell in love with her, Rachel hears it for what it is.

Because, it's not the first time she's returned Stateside in all the time she's been gone, but that's usually to visit her family in Ohio, and Rachel has tried not to think too hard about it.

They had _one_ night.

She's accepted that's all she was always going to get.

But, then, Blaine adds, "For good," and Rachel's world screeches to a halt, her fingers automatically moving to play with the pendant hanging around her neck. "Her promotion is bringing her back to New York. Kurt is going crazy with excitement."

Rachel knows she should say something, anything, but she can't think of any appropriate words. They're really supposed to be rehearsing, both of them playing the role of best friend to their current show's female and male protagonists respectively.

It's just a step in her very promising Broadway career.

But, now, Quinn is coming home, and Rachel does not know what to do with such information. Obviously, she's entertained the idea of such a thing. She's imagined entire lives for them, but the years have been long and hard and not very kind to Rachel, and Quinn is -

Quinn is coming home.

"Kurt is throwing her a 'Welcome Home' party," Blaine explains. "Two weeks from now. You'll have to come." He hesitates. "Both of you."

Rachel appreciates his... discretion, but they're both aware she doesn't speak to Finn, even if they still live in the same lousy apartment. She has plans to move out, even already signed a lease on a new place closer to the theatre, but -

Finn has always been good at making her feel guilty for living her life, and she harbours some kind of obligation beyond the band that was once on her finger, given she's just _another_ person in their marriage who's been unfaithful.

The thing is it was just once for her, involving an abundance of feelings, but Finn has just never stopped. She can't be sure which is worse, really, because Rachel managed to fall in love, but Finn just likes the physical release; enjoys being desired.

And, frankly, Rachel hasn't quite desired him since she met Quinn. Since before then, if she's being honest.

They've been glorified roommates for years now, but there's now a significant piece of paper that makes Rachel's lingering feelings for Quinn no longer taboo.

Quinn is coming home.

Maybe - just maybe -

No.

Rachel isn't going to entertain such an idea. She's been very strict with herself. And, plus, Quinn is probably -

Just, no.

Rachel just about manages to convince herself she expects little of seeing Quinn again, but the necklace that still hangs around her neck tells her otherwise. She told Finn she bought it herself, and he's never really looked close enough to realise she never could have afforded it when they were just starting out in New York.

Not that he didn't suggest pawning it a few times, when things got especially difficult.

Still, she's managed to hold onto it, the metal familiar and comforting against her skin. She fiddles with it from time to time, allowing herself a moment to indulge in the memory of an impossible love.

Well.

Not so impossible now, is it?

It's all Rachel can think about when she arrives at Kurt and Blaine's apartment, Finn in tow. She had to remind him about the party Kurt was throwing, and it took him a while to convince himself to go. She thinks he would have jumped if he knew her history with Quinn.

Sometimes, she wants to tell him. Just to spite him. She's endured her fair share of jilted ex-lovers of his, and he thinks he has some kind of right to go ape over her _friendships_ with Brody and Jesse.

She has to remind them both he has no claim to her anymore, and it is liberating.

The party is in full-swing when they arrive, an actual 'Welcome Home' banner hanging from the ceiling in the living room the first thing to greet them.

Rachel's eyes immediately search for Quinn, but she happens upon Kurt first, who is smiling from ear to ear. She imagines Brittany must be feeling the same. And Santana, though she probably wouldn't show her excitement at having Quinn back so visibly.

"You made it," Kurt says to them both, but she's the only one he actually hugs. She knows he harbours some ill feelings towards Finn, given how messy the divorce has actually been, but they're all trying to stay friends.

Rachel greets him quickly, and then very quietly asks, "Where is she?"

Kurt gives her a look she doesn't understand, and it's the first time she thinks he probably knows far more about her and Quinn than he's ever let on before. "In the kitchen," he says. "Britt is practically hanging off her, so you might have to fight her off." He pauses. "But, then again, you might not."

She frowns at what that could possibly mean, but she doesn't bother to ask. Her feet carry her towards the kitchen, her heart suddenly pounding in her chest. She has only memories of Quinn, and a handful of pictures she's seen through her other friends' social media posts, so it's been a long time since she's _seen_ Quinn.

She was never ready.

Quinn is leaning against a counter, a glass of wine in her hand and a soft smile on her face as she listens to what a pair of women are saying to her. Brittany is, indeed, tucked into Quinn's side, and Rachel allows herself a moment to admire her.

It's love at second sight.

It's just love.

It takes another minute for anyone to notice her just standing there, practically gawking, but Rachel has eyes only for Quinn, who meets her gaze steadily... and then smiles. The smile is nothing Rachel has seen before, and her breath stutters at the sight of it.

Quinn immediately excuses herself from the women around her, the pair in front of her looking disgruntled and disappointed, and then makes her way towards Rachel.

"You're here," Quinn says, and Rachel has missed the sound of her voice.

"So are you," Rachel returns, unable to think of anything else.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Quinn's smile widens. "I have missed you," she confesses.

"I've been right here." Exactly where Quinn left her.

Quinn's gaze drifts slightly, looking over Rachel's shoulder. "Finn is glaring at me."

Rachel steps into Quinn's space, breathing in Quinn's familiar scent. She seems taller, her features more defined. Her eyes are brighter, somehow, and Rachel wonders how she ever stood a chance.

"Kurt mentioned you two were no longer together," Quinn says.

Rachel meets her gaze. "You asked him about me?"

"I want to know if I'm allowed to give Finn something really to glare at," Quinn says, and Rachel gasps softly.

"And, what exactly would that be?"

Quinn takes a step closer - she's really too close for comfort. "I really want to kiss you," Quinn says. "Please tell me I can, right here, in front of everyone, without worrying about any other relationships or promotions to keep us apart."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "We're going to have to answer a lot of questions."

"I don't fucking care."

Rachel grins stupidly, and then lifts herself onto her toes to press her lips against Quinn's, right there, in front of everyone, without worrying about any other relationships or promotions to keep them apart.

Quinn's kiss is different, yet still familiar, and Rachel sinks into her, feeling Quinn's hands at the small of her back, drawing her closer until there's barely any space between their bodies. It seems as if the entire great big world has faded to nothing around them, and it takes the obnoxious clearing of a throat to get them to pull apart, though Quinn doesn't go too far.

It's Finn, because of course it's Finn.

Quinn slips an arm around her waist, drawing her close enough that their bodies are pressed tightly together. She smiles, a little too innocently, and says, "Oh, hello, Finn," she says. "Didn't see you there. It's been a while, hasn't it?"

Finn just looks between them. "What's going on here?" he asks.

Quinn shrugs, her hand tightening on Rachel's hip. "Just falling in love," she says, almost too casually. "Can you believe that? It's happened so quickly. Just a moment." She smiles. "All it took is one look."

Rachel can't take her eyes off her, her right palm pressing against Quinn's abdomen. Memories of hot, sweaty skin flash in her mind, and she knows she absolutely can't look at Finn right now.

"Huh?"

Quinn just shrugs again, but it's a little more forced. "Did you want to say something?" she questions. "Because, as I understand it, you two are no longer together."

"Yeah, but - "

"Cool," Quinn interrupts. "If you'll excuse us." And then she turns them both away, aware there are many sets of eyes on them as they move into a quiet corner of the room, their bodies still touching in all the ways that mean something. Quinn wraps her in a hug, hands pressed to the small of her back.

"Hi."

Rachel kisses her collarbone, inhaling deeply. "Questions, huh?" she murmurs.

"So worth it," Quinn quips.

Rachel lifts her head to look at her eyes. "Did you mean that?"

"Mean what?"

"About falling in love? In a moment? Just like that?"

Quinn hums. "I wouldn't have said it, if I didn't," she confesses. "I've always known. From the moment I saw you standing in the doorway to my apartment."

Rachel blinks. "Oh."

"I thought it was the same for you," Quinn says, and she sounds quieter, a little unsure.

"It was," Rachel assures her. "I've spent almost five years trying to get over one night with you. How am I supposed to survive the next - "

"Forever?" Quinn asks, looking equally smug and hopeful.

Rachel smiles, lifting herself up to kiss Quinn's lips. "We could be wildly incompatible," she warns.

"Doubtful," Quinn immediately counters. "I told you," she says; "you appeared in my doorway, and it was the moment I knew."

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
